


Injuries Break Boundaries

by MeinNameIstJette



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Kingsglaive
Genre: Boundaries, Draucor Week 2019, Injury, Lack of Emotional Control, M/M, Sadness, broken boundaries, maybe slight cuddling?, maybe traitor no longer?, untouched coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 06:51:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeinNameIstJette/pseuds/MeinNameIstJette
Summary: Day 1 Prompt: Titus being injured in the field and Cor having to take care of him.





	Injuries Break Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> Accidentally found out it was DrauCor week and gollie jolie am I ever glad that I did! This is my first entry for Draucor Week 2019. 
> 
> Unedited!! Sorry!!!
> 
> Day 1 Prompt: Titus being injured in the field and Cor having to take care of him

No one had expected it. Not even Titus. 

He had not expected the Empire to test weapons against them knowing full well that General Glauca was on the other side and they needed General Glauca alive to take down Insomnia. Everything seemed to occur both quickly and slowly at the same time. It was Libertus’ voice that Titus hears calling Crowe’s name, warning her, and Titus so happened to be nearby, keeping an eye on his mages.

Knowing his position in this war, Titus had drawn a very clear imaginary line in the sand of what he would accept and what he would not. He had come to terms with the fact that although he had grown fond of almost all his Glaives, he would have to watch them die so that he could achieve his goal.

That was why Titus hadn’t expected himself to intervene last minute to protect Crowe from what would have been her untimely death. Everything had happened so fast. 

The first beat of his steady heart had been him unsheathing his sword. The second one had been the couple of lunge shuffles that had gotten him quickly in front of the young mage. And then the third had been the clash of metal as Titus pushes their enemy back. 

Technically his ally.

Time returns to normal, or it seems that way, as Titus pushes back this enemy while keeping Glauca at bay. He could feel the daemon inside of him pulsating, itching to come out and fight. 

It was not the time. 

It was that momentary distraction that screws Titus over. He does manage to get a killing blow but he’s unable to defend himself from the metal claws of this beast. One with no name but then again at the beginning of Glauca’s inception, he also didn’t have a name. Titus can taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth as he staggers back. 

His grip on his sword tightens and he brings it up slicing the beasts claw off from the wrist only to have it remain embedded into his torso. 

Titus vaguely remembers hearing a gasp and he also vaguely remembers hearing Crowe’s voice speaking over the communicator. 

However, one thing Titus remembers clearly is that he thinks about Cor. He thinks about Cor as he falls to his knees. He thinks about Cor as he holds onto his sword for his dear life only to have it slip from his grip. His thoughts are too disjointed to realize the implications of these thoughts but he certainly can’t get the sight of him from his slowly fading mind.

Titus can feel the warm blood trickle down his chin and he stubbornly wipes at it, irritated by the proceedings even though he should be frightened that he could die. 

Glauca is silent. Thank the Astrals. 

And although Titus can hear both Lazarus and Ulric. He loses consciousness fairly quickly after.

\----

“Marshal. You should go home and rest.” 

Titus can hear things around him. He can’t quite open his eyes. They feel heavy, much heavier than he remembers them. He also feels light-headed as if he’d been drugged heavily.

“I have been resting. I’m fine.” Cor’s voice can be heard which is slowly pulling Titus closer to consciousness. 

“Can we at least offer you water or coffee?” 

“Coffee. Black please.” Cor sounded exhausted and whoever the woman Cor was speaking too also sounded just as exhausted. It was difficult to tell who sounded more so. 

“Of course, Marshal.” 

There are footsteps, light ones, and then a door closes and Titus can hear Cor heave a sigh. He feels something slip into his hand, he’s honestly surprised he can feel that followed by what Titus assumes is Cor’s forehead against his hip.

It’s silent.

Titus doesn’t really have the strength to pull himself completely out of the darkness. He’s surprised especially since Glauca had increased his healing capabilities. That must mean his injuries were a lot worse than he expected. 

There’s the creak of the door opening, light footsteps moving towards the bed, the sound of something being set on what Titus assumes is a table beside him, and then those same footsteps moving back to the door. The door closes shut and the two of them are alone again.

“No dying on me yet, Titus.” Cor murmurs as he sits up, his grip on Titus’ hand still firm. 

Titus tries again to open his eyes but no luck. He can feel the frustration rising in his chest and he hates that he’s this weak. However, his only success thus far is squeezing Cor’s hand in return. It was faint but it was something and it has Cor’s breath catching as if that’s the sign he needed to feel a little relieved after a week of utter emotional turmoil. 

“Not….gonna die…” Titus exhales his voice clearly hoarse. He sounded a little out of breath from that alone but it was something more even if he couldn’t open his eyes yet. 

Titus can feel Cor’s grip tighten on his hand and then he can hear the shuffle of his chair as he tries to get closer. 

“Titus. Gods.” Cor’s voice waivers and he can hear the Marshal swallow trying to reign in his emotions. Exude absolute control. “You’ve been out for a week. The healers weren’t even confident that you would survive this long or even wake.” 

Titus does manage a slight frown as he turns his head in the direction of where he can feel Cor, although honestly everything was fuzzy from the drugs, and with the remaining energy he has he manages to crack one eye open. 

His vision is blurry and the light hurts his eyes but he keeps them open, forces them to stay open. Titus can vaguely see the outline of Cor and some features but nothing distinct which fuels his frustration even more. 

Cor seems to pitch forward and press his forehead to the top of Titus’ hand, the same hand that Cor was still holding. He’s not sure if he can see the man’s shoulders shake or if it was the drugs. 

Titus swallows. He feels like he’s swallowing around cotton balls but he tries to lubricate his dry and raw throat. There’s a metallic taste in his mouth and he’s not sure if that’s from the hose he knows they attached to his face so he could breathe or if he was still tasting his own blood. 

“Said I wasn’t going to die.” Titus grunts, sounding a lot more coherent but just as hoarse.

He still needed to watch Insomnia fall. Although, Cor’s existence alone was making him second guess whether he even wanted to watch the city burn anymore. There were his Glaives too...Ulric, Ostium, Altius, and Khara to name a few that he would have to watch die if they don’t fall on the battlefield. 

Cor sits up straight and Titus can see that he’s lost a bit of his composure. The fact that Cor hadn’t bothered touching his coffee was another testament to that.

It’s quiet between the two. Mostly because Titus doesn’t have enough energy to keep his eyes half-open and he’s not sure what to say. They’d always tried to keep emotions out of their interactions. Yes, they fucked on a regular basis, but they had both insisted that it was only to relieve stress. That they wouldn’t get more involved in each others lives besides work, training, and fucking. 

This had crossed every single one of Titus’ boundaries and he’s sure Cor’s own as well. Except, he can’t be bothered to care and in fact, as much as he hates to admit it, he feels warm. His chest feels warm. 

Fuck. 

Titus knows that he could always blame all this on the drugs later. He could push all of this to the back of his mind, lock it up, and forget that he’d ever allowed himself to feel it.

Cor would most likely do the same and they would go back to their usual. Whatever was happening here would be swept under the rug.

And yet, Titus’ traitorous mind has the audacity to actually hate that thought. To make Titus feel that he hates that thought instead of being more than fine stepping back over the lines he’d set from the get-go. 

Titus can hear the rustle of clothes, the thunk of heavy boots, and then his bed dip under a known weight. 

“Move over.” Cor murmurs softly. 

Titus somehow conjures up the strength to crack one eye open and he lets out a huff as he tries to shift to the side. His expression crinkles in clear pain and Titus’ is surprised that he can even move when opening his eyes had been so difficult, but he shifts enough so that Cor has room. 

Cor immediately lays his head on Titus’s shoulder and the Marshal fists his hand in Titus’ medical gown. He manages to glance down at the head of hair before he’s weakly wrapping an arm around Cor’s shoulders. 

“I’m fine.” Titus breathes out trying hard not to break whatever spell had fallen over them. 

It’s silent again and Titus can feel Cor’s fist tighten in the gown’s fabric. 

“I thought my heart was going to give out on me when Furia came to report to me.” Cor finally speaks up voice thin and yet heavy with emotion. 

Titus doesn’t know how to answer and so he rests his cheek against the top of Cor’s head and takes comfort from the weight and warmth of the body beside him. And, that seems to be enough for both of them. 

Titus isn’t sure when he loses consciousness but this time he doesn’t struggle and he knows when he wakes next, Cor will be at his side.


End file.
